


red wolf blues

by sin



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 20:14:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sin/pseuds/sin





	red wolf blues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lunasky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasky/gifts).



Listen, the story begins something like the tale, but the tale is bland in comparison. It lacks nuance, subtlety and the twists and turns that are a part of human nature. Also, things get lost in translation and time, the supporting players fall by the wayside because religion or society deem them unworthy, but the main characters remain the same.

There is a girl.

..

 _I think you ruined any chance of us finding out. And I think that's really shitty._

Bo's words lingered as Lauren looked around and tried to find some comfort in the tools of her trade, in the computers and the instruments, but there was none to be found in the lab. It was bright and sterile with no real life.

Chances were just decisions made. Right or wrong was what determined whether they were second or last.

And that last chance could be gone before you realise it.

Yanking the chain from around her neck, she ignored the pain as the clasp snagged against skin. It was a bright flash as it tumbled through the air, but the satisfaction was fleeting.

Bo was gone. Her chance, gone, and Lauren was going to have to come to terms with that. She'd never thought of it as a competition, but Lauren had instinctively know that Dyson was a complication.

They'd never managed to get along, probably because he was the wild child before Bo came along and broke the rules. The one to side with Trick rather than The Ash.

Not that it mattered now. Dyson could give Bo what she wanted most -- a place to belong and someone to belong to.

Something Lauren had tasted and thrown away doing what she thought was for the best.

A greater good, hiding a selfish need, one that had opened her eyes to something she'd hidden from herself.

Lauren had been able to ignore the cage until Bo had walked in and unlocked the door.

..

And there is a wolf.

..

It was like watching a great tree tumble to the ground -- there was a sense of it happening in slow motion, the break and the fall, defying physics and time.

Hale could see it. The little things, the this and that, the creak and sway before the main event.

No matter how much Dyson denied it, it was there to see. The dude might be old (Hale had never pinned him down on how old), have some skill with the ladies (though no one could match a siren on that score), but that wasn't any kind of protection from a kick-ass succubus with a soft spot for humans.

Not even the wolf was immune.

There was love floating around, contaminating the air, and if they got any of it on him, Hale was going to be damn upset. He had no time for this shit when there was a world of ladies out there.

And the really shitty thing about all of this was that it was a sucker bet. Kenzie wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole because she knew her girl like he knew his guy. They might bet on the on again, off again, but neither of them would ante up for a love/no love kind of deal.

..

The girl doesn't have a red cloak or cap or somesuch. She likes black, has a crossbow, a selection of knives and a rather nifty machete that keeps a nicely honed edge.

The wolf doesn't have a thing for women's clothes or dress up and is pretty open about what he wants. Except when he's not.

..

It seemed like such a good idea at the time. Isn't that how it always starts?

They should never have lied to Bo about her mother.

Trick traced the binding of his tools with a finger, shaking his head and cursing himself for knowing better. And he did know better, he'd seen the results of good intentions before. He'd caused them to come into being with his meddling.

The current division of the Fae. Aoife. Bo. Dyson.

He'd seen the way Dyson had looked at Bo, seen how that look had changed, softened. Hell, he'd even warned him and like the obedient soldier he was, Dyson had tried to meet his expectations.

Tried in vain.

He'd asked too much, wanted too many secrets to be kept. It was unrealistic when Dyson's heart was in play. When Bo's was obviously in play as well.

How could he ask when he was just as bad? Compassion was not an easy road for any Fae, it wasn't in their make up. So, sometimes, a little humanity made you a better Fae, better for _all_ Fae.

Dyson was right to tell Bo. Maybe that was the way that they would overcome? Together, with the truth laid bare and all of their strengths working together.

And, just maybe, Trick would be forgiven for his part.

..

And while there may be the occasional issues with truth and lies, consensual infidelity -- the girl is a succubus after all -- and taking advantage of the situation, things have a way of ending up for the better.

Because, well, awesome sex helps and sometimes actions speak louder than words.

..

Such an interesting word -- devour, devoured, devouring -- something you could roll around in your mouth and feel the weight. Descriptive. Elemental. Awesome word, wonderful even, but Kenzi was about ready to try trepanning with a fork if her brain didn't stop circling around the damn thing.

Seriously, any other time it was a task to stay on track and not divert into something more interesting, a segue of words and expression that made the people around her smile and shake their heads and occasionally get that look that she was so used to seeing. The one she liked to label the, "Oh, Kenzie. Pat pat pat." look. The one that made her wish she had bigger feet so planting them in the person's ass would have more of an effect.

But her skills had failed her, done her wrong. Her brain was betraying her in the worst possible way and, oh my god, was that a piece of the ceiling? Okay, Bo had been accused of being a homewrecker by that Fury bitch, but Kenzie was pretty sure that meant in the figurative, you killed my husband now you must die sense not the literal shake the walls and turn the place to rubble kind.

She was going to have to remind Bo that the crack shack was fragile, delicate even, and really wasn't up to taking this kind of abuse.

A muffle howl came through the wall, and Kenzi grinned to herself.

Later. A lot later.

Kenzi jumped up from the couch -- honestly, there was only so much porn soundtrack a girl could take before it stopped being funny and crossed the line into awkward -- and grabbed the car keys. Time to get the hell out of Dodge and find some fun of her own.

Red Riding Hood might be a cautionary tale, but when little Red was actually a full grown succubus with a temper and a lust for, well, lust and sex and all things X-rated and groin-related, then the Big Bad better be careful because his wolfy bits, junk or otherwise, could get worn to the nub.

Not that he didn't sound like he was enjoying himself getting there.

Which was good, because being on Team Dyson sucked when mommy and daddy were fighting.

Team Crack House wasn't that much fun either -- and switching out t-shirts was a bitch.

 

 _"You know the tale of poor Little Red Riding-Hood, that the wolf deceived and devoured, with her cake, her little butter can, and her grandmother. Well, the true story happened quite differently, as we know now. It was not she, nor the good grand-dame, but the wicked wolf who was, in the end, caught and devoured."_  
\- The True History of Little Golden-Hood (Charles Marelles)


End file.
